Page 50 of Deadly Cry
‘Has been sent off, but I don’t expect anything earth-shattering to come back on that score.’
Kim crossed her arms and waited.
Keats raised an eyebrow. ‘What are you waiting for?’
‘The reveal, Keats. You’re like a good crime novel: you always save something for the end.’
‘Inspector, I have nothing interesting to offer.’
‘Well, I know that, Keats, but what about the body?’ she quipped.
‘There is nothing more to add. My official report is already in your inbox, so I’ll thank you to leave me in peace until circumstances dictate that we shall meet again.’
Kim glanced at Bryant, who shrugged in response.
There really was nothing else.
She moved towards the door, feeling as though there were questions she needed to ask.
Keats had listed all the similarities between the murders of Katrina and Louise. Her mind’s eye travelled back to the bullet-point list on the wipe board.
She stopped walking as the automatic doors opened to let her out.
‘Scratches?’ she asked, turning. ‘You noted deliberate scratch marks on Katrina’s skin?’
Keats shook his head. ‘None on Louise. Clean as a whistle.’
Kim frowned as she left the morgue.
A subtle difference to the first murder was the absence of something. What did that mean?
So had she learned something after all?
Forty-One
Penn knew Stevens Park well. It wasn’t a huge expanse of space. There were no undulating hills to climb or hidden lakes and beauty spots. The entire length of it was fringed by a dual carriageway that ran from Quarry Bank to the border of Lye.
The rest of its exterior was hemmed in by industrial buildings and a housing estate that adjoined every other perimeter.
This was not a country park where one went for a peaceful stroll amongst a stolen patch of nature. It had few facilities and was popular with local dog walkers, which was how Penn knew it.
When Jasper had been a toddler, they’d had a small dog, some kind of mixed-breed terrier. His parents had assumed that Jasper would be a lonely child and wanted him to have something to love. And love it he had. They all had until the day Mutley had gone off his legs and died due to kidney failure. Jasper had been inconsolable and had learned about death quite early for a little boy. Once he understood that Mutley wasn’t coming back, Jasper took to pulling the dog’s bed out of the utility and sleeping in it. There had been tears and tantrums for weeks, over a dog. And that was what was bothering Penn now. He’d seen his brother’s grief. He knew what it looked like when allowed to break free. He had seen the all-consuming effect and it hadn’t looked anything like what he was witnessing right now.
It’s just time, he told himself as he approached an officer he recognised.
‘Planty,’ he called out to the white-haired officer.
‘That’s Inspector Planty to you, my boy,’ he said, offering his hand.
Penn took it and shook it warmly. Before joining CID and moving to West Mercia, he’d worked as a constable with the man as his sergeant many times.
‘You here to keep us plods in line?’ he asked with a smile.
‘Nah, expedite communication,’ he explained. ‘Boss’s orders.’
‘Yeah. I’d do what she told me as well.’
Penn knew there was no malice in his words. From what he understood, they had worked together multiple times with co-operation and respect.
